Mining offers economic hope as Nunavut turns 10
He, his wife and their four kids have applied for a mortgage for their very own home in Baker Lake — their first — and they're waiting to hear if the bank will approve it.
"Just to have something of my own," says Quinangnaq, 36.
"I think my wife's a little bit more excited than I. She's the one who came up with the idea."
That home buyer's mix of pride and apprehension is familiar to southerners, but it's a new emotion for the Inuit of Nunavut, the great majority of whom rent hard-to-get, often overcrowded government housing. Quinangnaq knows he's taking a major step.
"Maybe two steps," he smiles.
That two-bedroom house with a roomy kitchen in the centre of Baker Lake costs $315,000. The only reason Quinangnaq can even think about buying it lies about 110 kilometres out of town. It's the Meadowbank project, a $620-million gold mine now under construction that has given him and about 150 other Inuit a job.
Mining best hope as Nunavut turns 10: economist
Ten years after Nunavut was created on April 1, 1999, a new economy that doesn't depend on government handouts is finally starting to emerge. Rocks are what Nunavut has to sell and, despite a slowdown in the global economy, the world is starting to buy.
"Getting into the end of 2007-08, the major transition is the activity in the mining sector," says Graeme Clinton, an economist who has written a series of reports for the territorial government.
"There's been a bit of a shift there, and it's one that the territory has been looking for since it started."
A 2008 study by Clinton listed six major projects throughout Nunavut.
But the long-term results could be hundreds of jobs and billions of dollars in investment.
The Goliath among current projects is the Mary River project on the north tip of Baffin Island, where a world-beating iron deposit is at the heart of a $4.1-billion plan that includes not only a mine but a railway and a port.
Meadowbank alone has pumped $171 million into Nunavut-based businesses, although deals with southern partners means much of that money leaks south.
Still, Agnico-Eagle has promised to hire at least 25 per cent of its 300-person workforce locally. The company has also made substantial training commitments, working with an Ontario technical college to move Inuit up from labourers to skilled tradespeople.
Terry Nukik, 36, was supporting his three children on welfare before training to drive the huge trucks that can move 100 tonnes of rock in a single load.
People "want to work," he says. "They don't want to be dependent on assistance. They want to be independent."
Besides, says 35-year-old Apollos Amarook as he pilots his own behemoth hauler, it's fun.
"In one word — breathtaking," he says over the hip-hop music playing in his cab. "I can't wait until we get bigger trucks."
Family, culture suffer at mining altar
There are downsides.
Inuit, who typically live close to friends and family, find the strict two-weeks-in, two-weeks-out shifts a serious strain.
"I cried for (my children) the first time I came," says Lisa Nagyougalak, who washes dishes in the cafeteria.
Other aspects of Inuit culture also suffer.
Mining can't provide jobs for everyone in Nunavut. There's still plenty of unemployment in Baker Lake and the one-industry town risks a split between the haves and the have-nots.
"People think I have a fat wallet," says Stephen Awautalik. "They end up ignoring me. They stop talking to me."
Mine workers don't get to keep all their new money. Rents in Nunavut are tied to income and one employee says his monthly tab shot from $62 a month to $400.
Resource jobs also expose workers to the vagaries of the global economy. At Mary River, dozens from the community of Pond Inlet were recently laid off when tight credit markets prevented Baffinland Iron Mines from finding the partner it needed.
And some projects have raised serious environmental concerns.
Meadowbank has been relatively uncontroversial, but a nearby uranium mine proposed by Areva Resources Canada has created strong local opposition.
Although it would employ twice as many people as Meadowbank and last twice as long, some local hunters and elders plan to oppose the plan when regulatory hearings begin on April 17.
"There's support for it and there's support against it," acknowledges local company representative Dan Zunti.
Nunavut does have other economic cards to play. A fishing industry is emerging, although it's hampered by the lack of infrastructure, such as harbours, that require investment from Ottawa.
"It's not going to happen without federal government money," says Clinton.
Mining is by far the territory's best bet, he says.
And if Baker Lake is an indication of Nunavut's future, Mayor David Aksawnee says things are looking up.
"It's helping our local people because they've been on welfare for so many years. They're happy. Their wives and their kids are happy. They're smiling. I see it."
And Quinangnaq says plenty more Inuit will go through the same tense but happy days he's living through.
"I'm pretty sure there's a bunch more employees that'll buy their own house."